Chapter 2 - The Cottage in the Snow
That evening at six o'clock, Evelyn changed out of her ruined uniform into a faded woolen sweater and pulled on her thin winter coat. She stepped out the kitchen door and began walking toward the small, isolated staff cottage tucked near the eastern stone wall of the estate.
Fresh snow had covered the gravel path, softening the massive limestone mansion behind her into a distant, glowing palace of yellow light. The air was sharp enough to burn her lungs.
Behind her, she heard heavy, rhythmic crunching steps in the snow. She turned around, raising her lantern.
Titan stopped three feet away, his black coat dusted with white flakes.
“No,” she told him, waving her hand back toward the main house. “You live up there in the warm wing.”
He took two steps forward when she resumed walking.
“Your dinner is probably served on fine porcelain,” she muttered, her breath freezing in the air. “Mine is leftover turnip soup from Monday night.”
Titan followed her all the way to the wooden door of the cottage. When she turned the brass key and pushed the door open, he nudged his broad snout past her legs, pushed into the dark room, and stretched his full length across the braided rug in front of the cold stone fireplace as though he had signed a legal lease.
Evelyn sighed, leaving the door cracked. She knelt by the hearth, struck a match, and coaxed a small flame from the dry pine kindling. Within five minutes, the tiny room began to warm, the scent of woodsmoke replacing the damp cold. Titan let out a long, shuddering sigh and rested his chin on his paws.
Twenty minutes later, the crunch of heavy tires echoed outside. A massive black SUV stopped near the cottage fence. Its engine cut out, and a single set of footsteps approached the porch.
Gabriel came alone. He wore no hat, his dark coat unbuttoned at the neck, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.
Evelyn opened the wooden door halfway, holding her sweater tight against her chest. “He followed me, Mr. Romano. I didn't lure him.”
Gabriel looked over her shoulder into the warm glow of the cottage fire. “Titan.”
The dog didn't even lift his head from the rug; he simply flicked his tail once against the floorboards.
Gabriel’s eyes drifted from the dog to the small room behind Evelyn: the single iron bed frame with its thin quilt, the small wooden table holding a half-eaten bowl of soup, and the drafty window frames where ice had formed on the inside of the glass.
“Your quarters are cold,” Gabriel observed, his voice low.
“The fire helps,” Evelyn said, standing ground in the doorway. “I’m used to drafty rooms.”
“You shouldn't have to be.” Gabriel stepped onto the small wooden porch, his towering presence filling the doorway. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small glass vial filled with a dark amber liquid. “Calvin gives him synthetic painkillers that make him aggressive. This is an herbal tincture my mother used for old horses in Italy. Put three drops in his food tomorrow morning.”
Evelyn looked at the glass vial, then up into Gabriel’s dark, unreadable eyes. “Why are you giving this to me? Calvin is his handler.”
“Calvin is a man who thinks strength is measured by how hard you pull a leash,” Gabriel said, his tone turning as sharp as broken glass. “Titan knows the difference between a man who commands him and a woman who sees him.”
He held the vial out. Evelyn reached out her hand, her warm fingers brushing against his cold, calloused knuckles as she took it. A strange, sharp current seemed to pass between them in the dark porch air.
“Why did you come to work here, Evelyn?” Gabriel asked suddenly, his gaze sweeping over her pale, sharp features. “You have the hands of a pianist or an artist, but you wear a maid’s apron and sleep in a shed on my estate.”
Evelyn’s heart did a strange, violent flip against her ribs. She looked down at the glass vial in her hand. “I needed a place where no one looked for me.”
Gabriel watched her for three long seconds, the winter wind whipping dark hair across his forehead. “A mansion full of armed men and security cameras is a strange place to hide.”
“Not if the man who owns it keeps everyone else away,” she countered softly.
A faint, dangerous flicker of interest flared deep in Gabriel’s eyes. He turned his head toward the mansion, where the third-floor lights were glowing bright against the snow.
“Vanessa wants you dismissed tomorrow morning,” Gabriel said offhandedly. “She says a servant who questions orders destroys the discipline of the house.”
Evelyn swallowed hard, her throat tight. “And will you dismiss me?”
Gabriel turned back to her, his shadow swallowing her completely as he leaned slightly closer to the door frame. “Vanessa does not own this estate, Evelyn. And she does not own me. You stay. But if that dog sleeps on your rug tonight, you will be up at five to clear the snow from the west veranda.”
He didn't wait for her answer. He turned and walked down the steps into the white dark, his heavy boots cutting deep tracks through the fresh snow.
Evelyn closed the wooden door and locked it. When she turned back to the hearth, Titan was watching her with bright, intelligent eyes.
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“He’s dangerous,” she whispered to the dog.
Titan let out a soft huff of air and closed his eyes again.
